


Event Horizon

by MoonlightBreeze



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood Has Self-Worth Issues, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Alec Lightwood-centric, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Alec Lightwood, Blood and Injury, Gen, Heavy Angst, I don't really give him the nice things but this has a happy ending so let's pretend I do, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, and now onto the serious ones, internalized ableism, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: event horizon (n): a theoretical boundary around a black hole beyond which no light or other radiation can escape; a point of no return.Five times Alec finds himself on a bridge with death on his mind, and one time he finds something to live for.Happy ending after a lot of angst!! Please see my author's note for a complete list of warnings. <3
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Robert Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & himself, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89
Collections: Autistic Alec Lightwood, Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	Event Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I can honestly say that I have no idea where this fic came from. It's been ages since I've written a 5+1 even though I do really enjoy writing them. This fic is pretty heavy on the angst, and it deals with a lot of potentially triggering topics, so I'll post a complete list of warnings down below. <3
> 
> With that being said, I really hope you like this!! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em
> 
>  **TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Internalized homophobia, implied/referenced homophobia, implied/referenced child abuse, ableism, internalized ableism, self-hatred, blood, self-harm, panic attacks, autistic meltdown described in detail, and suicidal thoughts. Please keep your lovely selves safe! <3

~ **1** ~ 

Alec tangled his fingers together and squeezed, feeling the tiny pinpricks of pain from his nails digging into his palms as if through a tunnel; distantly, barely even there at all. 

The water swirled dark and angry below him, and Alec took a deep breath of the frosty winter air, hoping that, with any luck, it might chill him right down to his bones and freeze him from the inside out. It would be a fitting death for a Shadowhunter that had never learned how to stop feeling so cold, even when it wasn’t winter. 

Jace’s words rang in his head, the pretty, pretty words that Alec hated to love. They tasted sweet on his tongue whenever he thought about them, but Alec knew that the sweetest berries were sometimes the most deadly. 

Another wave of self-loathing, much like the one that had drove him to the bridge in the first place, washed over Alec. By the fucking Angel, he hated himself. Jace was a broken boy from a broken home with a confident streak that only lasted for as long as the sunlight did. Alec knew the Jace that no one else got to see, and he _loved_ him. He loved him, and it was going to kill Alec where he stood. 

Alec shook his head and tried to dispel the thoughts. Jace’s golden eyes or the way that he talked so softly when he and Alec were alone or the tightness of his hugs wouldn’t save Alec now. This was a decision he had to make for himself, regardless of Jace. While Jace certainly played a part in how Alec felt, Alec knew, deep down, that he would be on this bridge even if Jace had never come to stay with the Lightwoods. 

Likewise, If he stayed for Jace, for all of the times when Jace needed someone and Alec was there, he was afraid that this would turn into a much bigger ordeal. No one could hide forever. Alec wasn’t going to make Jace watch him die in battle. He refused. He wouldn’t put his parabatai through the knowledge that Alec was willing, beyond willing, to let a demon tear him apart rather than live another day. Jace didn’t deserve that. 

Alec looked out at the dark water below the Brooklyn Bridge again. This, he thought, would be a much better solution. 

Jace and Isabelle would be fine. As much as Alec liked to pretend that they counted on their big brother for guidance and support, he knew that they both had other people, too. Isabelle made a habit of talking to their father and he knew Jace often confided in their mother. They had friends, family, even lovers, who would listen to them. Alec wasn’t their point of no return, and that was okay. He didn’t want to be. He wanted them to be happy, even if he knew that, above anything else, he needed to feel needed. 

He _wasn’t_ needed, though, and Alec had to find a way to learn to live with that or jump off of the bridge. There were no other options. 

Alec took a deep breath and stared into the swirling water below. It was dark, so dark that he couldn’t see where the shore ended and the water began. It would be just his luck if he jumped and managed to crack his skull open on a boulder. Alec shuddered and moved closer to the inside of the bridge. 

_I don’t want to do this_. 

The truth of the statement was undeniable - if Alec had wanted to do it, he would have - but still Alec hesitated. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to jump off of the bridge. But at the same time, he _did_. He wanted it so badly that his hands shook with it and he ached with the desire to slip forward just a little and let himself fall over the ledge; to finally give up, surrender, admit defeat. _Be free_. Alec closed his eyes against the wave of tears that threatened. 

He didn’t want to _die_. He just wanted to stop, just for a little while. He wanted everything to _stop_. That wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be the same.

With that, Alec took a deep breath and began to climb back over the bridge and onto the path. Someday, maybe things would be okay. It was a weak hope to cling to, but it was all Alec had. 

~ **2** ~

“Alexander, stop that!” his mother hissed. 

Alec flushed, embarrassed, and stilled his hands from where they’d been restlessly flapping at his sides. He hadn’t been paying attention to their movement, had let himself slip. He straightened his shoulders and moved his hands behind his back, where they were hidden and out of sight. He thought it was just as well; no one could see the way that he dug his nails into his palms, replaying his mother’s words in his head. 

“Look at me!” his father growled. “You will never be Head of this Institute if you can’t even make eye contact with people, Alexander. Grow up and start acting like a man.” 

Alec swallowed hard and forced himself to meet his father’s eyes. Behind his back, his hands found solace in each other, pinching and rubbing and hurting. The pain there was the only distraction from the pain that pounded behind his eyelids as his father droned on. 

Another night brought Alec to the Brooklyn Bridge again, but this time a different person plagued his thoughts as he stared down at the murky water. 

Images of his mother swam in his mind’s eye as Alec pressed on the little cuts his nails had made in his palms that evening, after yet another of her scathing lectures. He remembered his leg wanting to twitch, wanting to bounce with anxiety, but fidgeting wasn’t allowed. He was supposed to be a soldier. Secretly, Alec wondered if his mother would ever get it, get _him._

The current underneath the bridge was fast that night, and Alec took a deep breath, trying to inhale some certainty about what he wanted to do. His parents were never going to understand him. _He_ was never going to understand him. He was a Shadowhunter - a gay, freak of a Shadowhunter that couldn’t look people in the eyes and disliked crowds and hated the texture of potatoes more than anything. He was practically useless to the Clave, and both of his parents had certainly let him know, more than once, that usefulness to the Clave was the only thing worth existing for. 

Alec inched closer to the edge of the bridge. 

If he gave up now, he wouldn’t have to face his future, wouldn’t have to disappoint some poor woman who was expecting a real relationship with him and instead married a ghost. He wouldn’t have to live on a fucking tightrope or hide his feelings anymore. He could be _free_. 

Tears pricked Alec’s eyelids, and he shut his eyes tightly. He didn’t deserve to cry. If he was better, if he was different, if he was _good enough_ , then he wouldn’t even _be_ here. He would be with his family, happy and content and making his parents proud. For all Alec tried, it seemed like he would never be able to have that as it was. 

Alec inhaled shakily, his hands trembling on the bridge’s spokes. It was now or never. 

The wind howled with the promise of _something_ , and Alec’s heart pounded in his chest. The tears were spilling over now, staining his cheeks with every painful inhale. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t _do it_. His hands trembled on the metal railing, and the dam in his chest threatened to explode. _He couldn’t do it_. 

Alec took a deep breath, trying his hardest not to sob. He’d came to the bridge with one goal in mind, and the reality that he’d failed at that, just like he failed at every other godforsaken thing in his life, was almost too much. 

The night wasn’t clear by any means, but when Alec looked up, he could see a few stars peeking out from behind the clouds. They were bright and they seemed to smile down at Alec. 

Alec closed his eyes, letting the cold wind ripple his t-shirt and the songs of the nightbirds comfort him. He sighed, his shoulders drooping, and began to climb back onto solid ground. 

Maybe one night, he would be able to do it. Maybe one night, he would have the courage. Until then, he had to face the reality of living, of _existing_ , of being himself in a world that hated who he was. There was no other option. 

With the stars’ promise of something better on his mind and his failure heavy in his heart, Alec turned back towards the Institute and began to walk once more. If he pretended that he could do it, that he could _live_ , then maybe, just maybe, he would learn how to. 

~ **3** ~

Alec sagged against the bridge railing, feeling utterly defeated and hopeless. His cheeks still burned with embarrassment from his earlier talk with Jace and he wished with a startling ferocity that his parabatai couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. 

Another day, another unsanctioned mission, and Alec had been blamed. As usual. 

He didn’t resent Jace or Isabelle for toying with the rules so much or dragging Alec along on the missions they didn’t receive permission for. They were his siblings, and there was nothing Alec wouldn’t do for them. But when it came time to face the consequences of their actions, Alec was almost always the one that was blamed. He was almost always the one that stood victim to their parents’ scathing lecture and the subsequent shame & guilt that followed. He preferred it that way - at least Jace and Isabelle were safe and happy - but sometimes. Sometimes it just _hurt_. 

Alec had learned long ago that he could chase away emotional pain with physical pain, or at the very least, try to. He remembered going to the training room, his mother’s words harsh and heavy in his mind, and setting up the punching bag. He remembered starting in on it without wrapping his hands and he remembered the overwhelming feeling of relief when his knuckles began to split and blood coated the punching bag. It finally felt like he could breathe again. 

He also remembered the knock at the training room door, almost timid in its softness but still carrying some of that brash recklessness Alec was used to from his parabatai. He’d stopped punching just long enough to yell, “Go away!” and then started back up again. Jace, of course, wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Alec remembered the way Jace had used his stele on the door to force it open, remembered the way his hands stung and ached so suddenly, when faced with his parabatai’s scrutiny, and he remembered how he’d stumbled to a standstill in front of the punching bag, breathing hard. 

He also remembered the look of horror on Jace’s face, and it made him sick to his stomach. 

He hadn’t meant to snap at Jace, he really hadn’t, but when Jace started in with his questioning and tried to touch Alec, Alec couldn’t take it. He couldn’t stand to hear the raw pity in Jace’s voice, and he couldn’t stand to be touched right then, especially when all he wanted was to _hurt_ , and Jace’s touch was far too soft for him to accept it. 

The rest of the time before he’d found his way to the bridge was a blur; he remembered yelling at Jace, telling him to go away, and he remembered the look of hurt on Jace’s face before he retreated to his bedroom and left Alec alone. He vaguely remembered leaving the Institute, and running so fast that his legs burned with the exertion and he felt like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. 

Alec took a deep, shaky breath and stared down at the water below. How he’d gotten _here_ from the Institute was a mystery to him. Alec twisted the broken skin of his hands, gritting his teeth against the pain. Sometimes he wondered if he just had muscle memory from being here too much. It was a depressing thought. 

The cold night air seemed to bite into Alec’s skin, and it provided him with another way to hurt; he was shivering madly, his teeth chattering together. He didn’t know how long it would be before hypothermia set in, but part of him wondered if he couldn’t just wait out here until it did. Maybe he was too much of a coward to jump off the bridge himself, but he could sit and wait and let himself freeze to death instead. 

Tears were becoming thin icicles on Alec’s cheeks, but he couldn’t seem to make them stop coming. He didn’t even know what he was crying for. Nothing was wrong, really. Jace’s appearance was unusual, but not the end of the world; Alec could think up a decent lie in the morning and Jace would believe him and they would go back to their normal lives. 

And yet, as he sat on the bridge in the dead of winter, Alec felt like his whole world was ending. 

He twisted his hands together and dug his fingernails into the slivers of broken skin, blood bubbling to the surface under his repeated aggravation of his wounds. He sucked in a deep breath of the frigid night air and tried to speak around his sobs. 

“Angel, if you’re up there, _please_ ,” Alec begged. “Please take me away from this.” He broke off, his shoulders shaking as he cried. He knew how he must look, sobbing on the edge of a bridge in the dead of night, hurting and small and _pathetic_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to care. No one was there to see him now. No one was _ever_ there. 

“I know you think I’m strong enough to do this, to-to live like this,” Alec cried, trying to breathe through the pain in his chest. “But I’m _not_. Angel, Raziel, please, I’m not. I’m not strong. I’m weak. I don’t - I don’t want this.” He closed his eyes, letting the tears flow unchecked. “I never wanted this.”

Alec wasn’t sure what he had expected, but the silence that greeted him after his prayer was a bitter disappointment, and he sagged against the bridge rails, shaking. Of course the Angel wouldn’t hear him. Or maybe He did, and He just didn’t care. Alec thought the latter was much more likely. No one else did. Maybe Jace and Izzy, but Alec knew that the moment they saw what was really left of their big brother after so many years of misery, they wouldn’t anymore. 

And then? No one would. 

Alec would be alone, and he knew, just as much as he knew his own name, that he wouldn’t survive that. 

The thought of Jace and Izzy filled him with remorse, and more tears dripped from his chin and onto his bloody hands. _Jace_. Jace would be worried about him, if he hadn’t gone back to sleep after Alec had dismissed him. Alec reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, unsurprised to see that he had a series of unread texts from Jace. 

Alec took a deep breath and briefly entertained the idea of jumping off anyway, despite his siblings, despite his hesitance, despite _everything_ , but it was gone as soon as Alec realised that Jace would have to feel him die if he jumped now, would feel every ounce of the decision right down to his cells. There would be no hiding what happened. Jace would know it was suicide.

No matter what, Alec wouldn’t put Jace through that. If he couldn’t find the courage to do it while Jace was asleep, then he wouldn’t do it. Jace was more important than he would ever be, and Alec had sworn to protect him. Even if that meant protecting him from Alec himself. 

Alec sighed, watching his breath form tiny white clouds in the night air, and began to climb back to the other side. He gave the bridge one last longing look as he squared his shoulders, applied an iratze to his hands, and prepared to face the Institute (and Jace) once more. 

~ **4** ~

Alec scrambled to get the turtleneck sweater off as soon as he shut the door behind him, gasping for breath. Tears pricked his eyes and his hands were shaking so badly that the sweater kept slipping from his grip. He cried out in pain, cursing himself. He was being stupid, _stupid_ , so fucking stupid - 

He finally managed to grasp the end of the sweater in his clammy hands, and he ripped it off, throwing it as far away from himself as he could. He exhaled shakily, backing into a corner and pulling his chest of drawers in front of himself. The tears threatened to overflow, and he bit his lip, hard, to stave them off. God, he was so _stupid_. 

Alec had known for a long time that he didn’t like turtleneck sweaters; the fabric made him crazy, and the tight neck made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. Oh, by the Angel, he couldn’t _breathe_!

Alec clutched his shins to his chest, struggling to inhale. His lungs burned like they were on fire, and tears leaked from his eyes, which were shut tight as he hyperventilated. He was in so much _pain_ , felt the pinpricks of it exploding all over his body, and Alec wished, he fucking _prayed_ , that the Angel would strike him dead where he sat and take him away from this hell. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t bear it another minute longer and he was going to _die_. 

He didn’t even hear it when his door creaked open, and he didn’t hear the click of Isabelle’s heels until they were right next to him, he was so deep in his distress. Her voice, however, panicked and frantic, was unmistakable. 

Alec’s eyes flew open in surprise and he flinched away from the hand she laid on his shoulder, curling into himself even more. The world was swimming before his eyes, and everything _hurt_ , and he had to get these clothes off, needed it dark, needed it quiet, but he couldn’t _have_ any of that, and oh god, Isabelle was _in his room_ , Isabelle was _with_ him. Isabelle was seeing his panic attack, seeing his meltdown, and Alec didn’t think he could handle it. 

“It’s okay, big brother!” Isabelle was saying, and there were tears on her cheeks now, too. “It’s _okay_ , Alec!” Her voice was loud and grating, and Alec wanted to tell her to be quiet, but he _couldn’t_ because he couldn’t _breathe_ and she didn’t understand and he couldn’t _make_ her understand - 

Alec gasped, struggling to get air into his lungs. She would _never_ understand. She wasn’t like him. _No one_ was like him. He was all alone in the Shadow World and he always would be. 

“Please, Alec,” Isabelle was nearly sobbing at this point, “Just breathe, big brother! Just breathe, it’s okay! It’s _okay_!” 

Alec shook his head violently, clamping his hands over his ears. _Nothing_ was okay. Nothing would ever be okay. 

Isabelle reached out to touch him again, but by the time her hand came into contact with Alec’s shoulder, the world had already gone black. 

Alec woke up in his bed, alone. His head was pounding like someone had taken a jackhammer to his skull and his eyes were swollen and painful in a way he was all too familiar with. He swallowed hard. 

The faint sound of voices outside of his door drew Alec’s attention away from himself, and he paused to listen to what they were saying. 

“I’m telling you, he just freaked out!” Isabelle. 

“Well, what was he freaking out about? He didn’t just start hyperventilating for no reason!” Jace. 

“I don’t _know_.” Izzy sounded exasperated, and Alec guessed it wasn’t the first time she and Jace had had this conversation. “He ran away from the ops center, clawing at his neck, and then he just disappeared in here and started h-having a panic attack or something.” 

Jace sighed, and the sound filled Alec with guilt. The sigh sounded so, so _heavy_ , and it made Alec’s skin crawl to know that he was a burden to his parabatai. 

“Okay,” Jace said reluctantly. “We’ll ask him about it later, after he wakes up.”

The sound of them retreating had Alec up and out of bed, throwing on a random t-shirt from his drawer and one of his leather jackets, lacing up his boots and slipping his stele into his pocket. He didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t want to be around when Isabelle and Jace cornered him to talk about what had happened, that much was for sure. 

As he jogged the length of the city, Alec’s guilt grew and grew until it was like a second heartbeat in his chest, choking him to the point of incoherence. He couldn’t _believe_ he’d let Izzy see him break down like that. He couldn’t believe that the breakdown had happened over a fucking _sweater_ , of all things. Alec exhaled shakily and let his feet carry him to the familiar destination, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

It wasn’t yet dark out, and some of the sun’s rays still illuminated the bridge, making it look vastly different from how Alec remembered it. He trembled in place, breathing hard, and swiped his stele over his invisibility rune. He didn’t need any mundanes trying to intervene with the plan he’d been attempting to carry out for literal years. 

It was with shaking hands and a heavy heart that Alec climbed onto the ledge once again and settled himself among the bridge’s spokes. They were oddly comforting, in a way, sharp and unforgiving and digging into his palms like he deserved for showing his siblings just how weak he really was. 

Alec took a deep breath, tried to steel himself. He had nothing left. Isabelle and Jace had _seen_ it, seen his weakness, seen just how different he really was and how much that difference set him aside from every other person in the Shadow World. Alec didn’t even know how to begin explaining the concept of autism to them, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to, anyway. All they needed to know was that he was a _freak_ , and they surely knew that by now. 

The sun slowly slipped beneath the horizon as Alec sat on the bridge, gazing down at the dark water below. He was _tired_. He was so damn tired of all of this. He was physically tired from his panic attack earlier, but the bone-deep exhaustion that was weighing on his mind had nothing to do with physical symptoms. He was tired of _living_. Tired of hiding, tired of pretending, tired of hating himself and wishing he could just be set free from it all. 

He swallowed hard. If he jumped, if he gave up and surrendered himself to the overwhelming relief of death, what would it matter? Would anyone miss him? Or would he be just another blip on the map, another Shadowhunter that died in “battle” and another statistic for their fucking charts? 

Alec didn’t think he could stand giving the Clave one more horrible, barbaric thing to celebrate over. 

With that, Alec climbed back over the bridge and slid onto solid ground, burying his head in his hands. The self-loathing was still there, burning his veins and making him wish that he could cut it all out until he couldn’t feel anything anymore, but it was subdued under his righteous anger. 

The Clave couldn’t have him. He wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. And so Alec picked himself up, wiped furiously at the tears that stained his cheeks, and began the long walk back to the Institute again.

~ **5** ~

Alec ran and ran, his lungs burning with every step. Tears stained his cheeks, and the bruises on his hands from his bow string ached in the humid summer night. He didn’t stop running until he reached the bridge, until he had clambered over the beams and settled himself on the outside ledge, the position all too familiar to him by now. 

He gasped, his chest heaving, as he tried to catch his breath. Nothing was okay. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. Green eyes flashed through his mind without warning, and they made him want to punch something. He clutched the metal railing of the bridge tighter, ignoring the way it dug into his hands hard enough to draw blood.

Clary fucking Fray. _Clary. Fucking. Fray._

Alec inhaled sharply, trying to quell the hurt that was trapped in his chest, threatening to explode. Ever since Clary Fray had shown up, it felt like he was slowly losing everyone that he cared about. Jace was so taken with her that Alec felt like dying every time he so much as looked in his parabatai’s direction. Isabelle liked her, enjoyed her company a hell of a lot more than she enjoyed Alec’s, which Alec _understood_ \- he’d never been one for clubbing or raves or any of the other things Izzy liked to do in her free time. 

Still, it _hurt_. It hurt more than words could say. 

Pressures were mounting at the Institute with Clary’s arrival, and Alec knew it wouldn’t be long before a sacrifice would have to be made. His parents wouldn’t stand for their behaviour for long. 

And then there was Magnus. 

Beautiful, charming, flirtatious Magnus who had made it clear that he wanted _him_ , something that Alec was sorely unused to. His hands tightened on the metal railing as he recalled the night of their first meeting. He hadn’t even understood what Magnus meant at first - why on Earth was it important for everyone, much less _Alec_ , to know that Magnus had slept with Michelangelo? - but a few pointed looks from Jace and gentle encouragements from Isabelle had cleared that up rather quickly. 

That still didn’t explain why, out of everyone in the room, Magnus had chosen _Alec_. Alec knew he wasn’t much to look at, not compared to Jace or Isabelle or even Clary. He knew he walked around with a sour look on his face all the time and he was brash, curt, and at times downright rude. He couldn’t fathom why someone like Magnus would even look twice at someone like him.

The memory of Magnus’s eyes on him, of his voice that could somehow change from commanding to soft in mere seconds, and the words that terrified him down to his core - “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Alec,” - made shivers run down Alec’s spine. 

Alec had never known want like this before, and it terrified him. 

Change had always been hard for Alec, but this kind of change made him wish that he could take a minute and just _stop_ , take some time to sort through everything in his head and try to make sense of what was happening. Ever since Clary had turned up, everything had changed and everything was different and Alec didn’t know where he stood with anyone anymore. 

Jace was infatuated with Clary, that much was obvious, and it seemed like he had already replaced Alec with the redhead in a matter of days. Isabelle was well on her way, spending more and more time with Clary and less with Alec. He knew it shouldn’t bother him this much, but he couldn’t help but feel that everyone he loved was slowly turning to Clary instead of him and it _hurt_. 

It didn’t help that his mother and father were back from Idris and seething, furious with Alec for all of the unsanctioned missions he’d led and all of the Downworld business he’d gotten involved in for Clary. They were ready to burst, and Alec knew it wouldn’t be long before _something_ happened, be it a punishment or a demotion or something much, much worse. 

He inhaled shakily. The waters of the Brooklyn Bridge had never looked so tempting. 

They didn’t _need_ him, Jace and Isabelle, not like they had, maybe, in the past. They were older now; they didn’t need their big brother to watch over them or soothe them when they had nightmares anymore. They didn’t need _him_. 

Alec took a deep breath, trying to stave off the tears that threatened to fall. He shouldn’t cry. Not when Valentine was back and the Circle was rising and everything was so unfathomably different and strange. Of all the reasons to be sitting on a bridge, contemplating whether he should live or die, his reasons were, by far, the stupidest ones imaginable. 

And yet, as Alec stared into the dark water below the bridge, he couldn’t help but feel that this was a sign; the Shadow World didn’t need Alec Lightwood, an excuse of a Shadowhunter who spent his nights on bridges with his own misery, couldn’t stand his food to touch, and loved men the way he was supposed to love women. He had failed at being good enough for his parents, for his family, for _anyone_ , and really, what else did he have left to offer the world?

Alec’s phone chimed with a text, startling him out of his thoughts. He reached for it, taking one hand off of the railing to slip it out of his pocket. It was from Magnus. 

M: _If you recall, our discussion from earlier was interrupted...would you like to go out for a drink sometime?_

Alec closed his eyes, ignoring the tears that pricked at his eyelids. He knew how he wanted to answer the text, but he also knew that he couldn’t, that he _shouldn’t_. It would never go anywhere. Alec would be leading him on, playing with his heart when he knew he could never really be with a man, much less a Downworlder. 

And yet. 

And yet, Alec’s fingers itched to respond in the affirmative, itched to tell Magnus that he was the first person Alec wanted to be with since Jace, and that he wished with everything he had that they could be allowed to have a chance. 

But they _didn’t_ , and Alec _knew_ that, and he was still typing out _Yes_ and pressing send before he had time to take it back. 

Alec exhaled shakily, his free hand clenching around the metal railing. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he could make a fairly good guess. His future didn’t involve Magnus, that much was for certain, and yet Alec still held out some stubborn hope that he might have a chance to experience something real, something full and requited and _beautiful_ , with Magnus. 

His mind was screaming at him that no, it would never happen, and he should just give up right now, give in, kill himself and be done with it, but somewhere deep inside Alec, there laid a buried hope that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to have everything that he wanted. 

Angel knew he didn’t deserve it, but that didn’t make him want any of it any less. 

With a shaky sigh and the weight of the world on his mind, Alec found his way to the other side of the bridge once again and began the walk back to the Institute for the last time. 

~ **+1** ~

Alec didn’t know how he was supposed to feel, standing and staring at the warlock he liked - _~~loved~~_ \- who had just strode into Alec’s own wedding and refused to leave, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t how he did feel. 

Lydia gave him an expectant look, a reassuring smile, but Alec could see the fear in her eyes. She knew. She knew how he felt, and she knew what he was going to do. 

Alec closed his eyes and tried to breathe, tried to get his thoughts to make sense and his mind to stop screaming at him to take Magnus by the arm and walk right out of the reception hall. This wedding was _everything_ to him. It would restore his family name, make his parents proud. He _had_ to do it. He had to.

And yet, Magnus was still standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a complicated look that Alec couldn’t even begin to try and decipher, and his heart was beating so fast that he feared it might beat right out of his chest and he couldn’t _breathe_. This wasn’t like a panic attack or a turtleneck sweater; it wasn’t anxiety or distress. It was more like he was staring down at something he knew he could have if he just reached out to take it, and he was more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life. 

“Alec?” It was Lydia. She was smiling, trying to focus his attention back on her, but Alec shook his head, exhaling hard. 

“I can’t do this. I thought we were doing the right thing, but this isn’t it. I’m sorry.” His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath was coming in short, pained gasps but he _wanted_ , and goddammit, he _deserved_. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” Lydia was smiling still, and her expression didn’t falter for a second. “Hey.” She reached up and put her hand on his cheek, a steady, grounding pressure to help him focus on her. “You deserve to be happy.”

Alec’s eyes filled with tears at her words. She was right. He _did_ deserve to be happy. 

She let him go then, and Alec turned to face Magnus at the end of the aisle, and he could practically hear the way the warlock called out to him with his gaze, and he knew he was doing the right thing. 

Alec took a deep, steadying breath. This was it. There would be no going back after this. This, what Alec was about to do, it would change everything. 

It was Alec’s point of no return. 

Magnus’s gaze on him didn’t waver, and Alec was overwhelmed with an incredible beat of emotion. This was Magnus, the man who had spotted Alec in a crowd and chose him, over and over again. This was Magnus, the same Magnus who fiddled with his rings the way Alec used to flap his hands before his mother trained the action out of him. This was the Magnus who took the time to lay a plastic sheet down while Luke was dying because he couldn’t stand the texture of blood on his couch. This was Magnus, who loved so openly and so freely and who was completely, unashamedly, and beautifully himself in spite of the opinions of others. 

Magnus was everything Alec wanted, and he was everything that Alec could _have_ if he just took the chance and stepped over the boundary, crossed the event horizon and chose _himself_ for the first time in his entire life. 

Alec took the first step forward, and he knew as well as he knew his own name that the rest would follow. He could feel himself leaving a part of him behind, the part that was ashamed of who he was and who he loved in the wake of who others wanted him to be. It was exactly as freeing as he had once thought death would be. 

When his mother tried to stop him, the “Enough,” slipped from Alec’s lips without any conscious thought on his part, and it felt like he wasn’t just saying enough to her actions, but _enough_ to her prejudice, to her blatant discrimination towards Downworlders, to her expectations of him and her perfectionism and the way she had tainted his mind from the day he was old enough to understand what she was saying when she spoke. 

To Alec, it felt like he was telling her that _he_ had had enough, that she couldn’t control him anymore and he was _done_ trying to be good enough for her. He was enough for him, and that was all that mattered. 

Dragging Magnus into a kiss felt like something Alec had been waiting to do all his life, and in a way, maybe it _was_. 

Nothing, not even light, can escape the event horizon of a black hole. But there are entire solar systems inside of black holes, and Alec didn’t need light, anyway. Magnus was a star all on his own, and Alec knew that, with Magnus’s light surrounding him, he would never be dark again. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](http://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open, but very slow! Thank you for your continued understanding and patience with me. 
> 
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